 CHAPTER I As he heard that dreaded yet telltale spang against the hull of their spaceboat, young John Carver dropped his real book and sprang to his feet. His eyes looked swiftly to help his ears trace the sudden hiss he knew was their precious air escaping. In the back of his mind he heard the sudden grunt his father made, the sound of a falling body, his mother's frightened scream, and his brother's, what's wrong? But he did not stop his own lanky gangling body in its leap toward the outer bulkhead. And as he leaped he pulled his handkerchief from his hip pocket, leaving Tuna, if that isn't fixed quick we'll lose our air, was his near panic thought. We won't be able to get where we're going. Be lucky if we come out of it alive. So, guided by the whistling escaping air, John found the hole, nearly half an inch in diameter. Into it he watered the corner of the cloth as best he could. The outward loss of their precious air slackened, though there was still some leakage he could not stop this way. He jumped to the nearest of the many emergency repair kits scattered about the ship. From it he grabbed a metal patch and an electric torch. Swiftly he plugged the ladder into a ball socket. With it he quickly welded the patch into place after pulling, with considerable difficulty, his handkerchief from the hole. It'll do for now, he decided, after carefully examining his work and listening closely to make sure there was no more whistling out of air. But we'll have to go outside and really fill in and weld plug that hole in the hole, but quick. He re-stold the torch, then opened a flagon of emergency oxygen helium mixture in front of the electric blowers that kept their air circulating, to replenish what had been lost. Only then, although it had been less than two minutes, really, did he turn back to the rest of the family. He had been somewhat surprised that his father had not come to help him. He had not been at all surprised that his brother had not. Jack was a grand guy, John thought the world of him. And he just wasn't worth a dead salmon in an emergency like this. He did not have a mechanical type of mind. Now, as he turned, John saw his mother and brother kneeling beside the prone body of his father, and noted with astonishment that she was crying. There was something stiff and unnatural about the man's body, too, lying there on the deck beside his reclined seat. A sudden fear sent the boy leaping across the room. What? What happened? Pop isn't dead, is he? No. Something made him fall, and he hit his head on the deck and knocked himself out, Jack said without looking up. His foot caught in the foot rest, and as he fell over the sea-darm, his leg broke. John dropped to his knees beside his weeping mother and threw an arm about her. His eyes were wide and dampless with tears, for, in spite of the rapid growth his body had undergone in the past few years, he was still only sixteen, and he loved the splitted father of his with genuine devotion. It just couldn't be that Pop wouldn't live, he thought in panic. He couldn't make himself believe that he might no longer have the wonderful companionship and guidance and counsel of this grand man who had been his world. His mother, seeming to realize what the boy was undergoing, forced back her own grief to turn and gathered this younger son into her arms, comforting him as only mothers can. They watched the elder brother's swift, confident hands as he bathed with soft cotton, soaked in some kind of medicine taken from the open first aid kit beside him, the bruised place on the back of his father's head. Back had already saved away the hair about the bruise. Now we took an atomizer and sprayed on a clear plastic bandage. Mrs. Carver turned anxiously to a younger son. John, you know how to run a ship. Turn it around and get us back to the nearest hospital as fast as it will go. John looked at her in astonishment, for it had never before occurred to him that she did not know at least something about interstellar astrogation. We can't, Mom. You don't run a ship in space like you do a ground car. We're on negative acceleration now, but it'll be close to two days before we slowed enough for any kind of maneuvering. That's right, Mother. Jack came unexpectedly to his brother's aid. You can't stop or turn a spaceship at all. But I don't think we need worry too much. Father's head wound is not serious. Those is a slight concussion. And we can set his legs over a hill straight. It's a clean break. Besides, it would take at least a month to get back to the nearest colonized planet, John dug up the explanation. You know we're almost six weeks out of terror. Mrs. Carver still looked doubtful, but responded as did John, when Jack began issuing instructions to them to help him in setting the broken leg. He had cut away the trousers and removed the boot and sock. Now he asked his mother to grasp his father's shoulders and hold tightly. He then showed John how to hold the toes and heel of the injured leg and pull steadily downward while he manipulated the bone ends into place. When the break had been adjusted, Jack dissolved certain plastics into a heavy viscous liquid which he sprayed onto the leg. This mixture hardened almost instantly, forming a cast that was far stiffer and yet less weighty than either the ancient plaster casts or cumbersome splints. When it was finished, they all rose. And while their mother hurried ahead to prepare the bunk, the boys stooped and lifted their father's inert body, staggering a bit under the load. Yet handing him tenderly, they carried him to his wall bunk and lowered him onto the sheeted mattress. After their mother had tucked in the top sheet and blankets, the boys buckled the acceleration straps about the bunk, and Jack made an extra binder with a folded blanket about the broken leg. Now, if their father regained consciousness, or moved about breastlessly and partially awakening, he could not fall out if perhaps hurt himself more. When all had been done to make the wounded man as comfortable as possible, Mrs. Carver turned to John questioningly, What happened, son? Do you know? Meteoride broached the hull, then must have gone on and almost hit pop. If it was a close miss, the force of its passage must have made him duck and fall. But I don't feel any air escaping. There isn't now. I patched the hull inside. Temporary job, though. Popple. He stopped in sudden realization, then straightened resolutely, and his voice was calmer, more sure as he went on. I mean, I'll have to go outside and make a permanent weld. Might as well do it now. His mother's face showed a pride she felt in this young son who could plan and do the things that had to be done, even while she knew he was upset by his father's accident. Yes, it should be done at once. But she gripped his arm convulsively. Be sure your lifeline is fashioned securely, John. He patted her hand awkwardly. I will, mom. I've been outside a lot, you know, and understand just what to do. He broke away and ran back toward the airlock. From the closet just inside the interlock door, he took his face suit and put it on as quickly as he could. He was still working on the zippered seam down the front, smearing on the quick drying plastic that made it doubly airtight when his brother came in. Can I help, chubby? Sure, give me a hand with my helmet. Say, Owl, will Popp really be okay? I think so. He got a bad smack when he fell, but his heart seems to be beating strongly, and I think the concaution will wear off soon. The leg will heal, but he'll be out of commission about six weeks. He picked up the quartzite fishbowl and slipped it over John's head. They settled it firmly in place on the suit ring, and screwed tight the lugs that held it in place. As John turned on his oxygen, he motioned to the plastic, and Jack smeared it carefully all around the seam. When he had finished, John increased the oxygen flow until the suit bulged, while Jack mindlessly inspected every point for any possible leakage. Finding none, he made the OK sign with thumb and bent forefinger, and John reduced his airflow and opened the escape valve until the suit deflated enough so he could move about easily. From a chest of repair supplies, the younger boy took a can of metal seal and a self-contained acetylene torch. The easy fastened to his belt while Jack was getting, from a wall hook, a coil of thin but terrifically strong, light, plastic rope that would neither freeze nor lose its fliability in the other cold of space. While space suits had magnetic shoe soles to keep their wearers in contact with the hull, a lifeline was a safety factor in case they happened to break that contact and drift away from the ship. John checked his suit and equipment again, making sure he had all the tools he might need and that they were firmly in place. He snapped one end of his lifeline into a ring at his belt, tugging strongly on it several times. Then he turned and grinned through the helmet at his older brother. He waved him away from the interlocked door, then pressed a button. The door swung open and air rushed in to fill the vacuum between the inner and outer lock doors. John stepped into the narrow space, skirted the handling mechanism there, then pressed another button to actuate the motor that closed and locked the inner door. When the red signal light told him it was airtight, he switched on the pump that returned the air to the body of the ship. The lock empty, he twisted the knob that opened the outer lock door, then snapped the other end of his lifeline to a ring just beside the opening doorway. He switched on his suit heater as he felt the chill of space. Slowly, ponderously, the mechanism swung the great 18 inch thick outer door partially open, and John was facing deep space. Although he had spent nearly a third of his life out here, it was a sight that never tired the boy's active, imaginative mind, and even now he stood for a long minute, eagerly looking outward. The awesome blackness of the void seemed alive, with millions upon countless millions of tiny, distant, pinpointed lights he knew were giant suns. On and on they stretched as far as the eye could see and beyond. In the far, far distance were blotches of light John knew were the incredibly distant nebulae, other uncounted billions of suns that made up the far-off galaxies and universes. He looked overhead, picking out against the backdrop of the nearest suns of our own galaxy, the Milky Way, some of the larger giant suns, Canopus, Rigel, Dunneb, Beetlejuice, Antares, and others he knew by sight. The patterns familiar on Terra were somewhat distorted here because of the difference in distance and his line of sight, but those suns could not be mistaken. He only stood there for a moment, then he reached out carefully and grasped the grung of the metal ladder welded on to the hull, and which ran completely around the ship. He pulled himself on to this, and held there while he estimated where the hull should be. About twenty-four feet to the left and one or two lower than the door-top, I think, he buttered to himself. He climbed several rungs then half-straightened, and set first one foot and then the other firmly and flatly under the hull beside the ladder rungs. He tried each of his shoes, making sure their magnetic soles were gripping tightly against the hull's surface. Then he let loose the ladder and stood upright. Compared to the decks inside, he was at right angles, but there is no up, down, or sideways in space, except that your feet always seemed down. Assured that his shoes were holding firmly, he slid first one foot and then the other along the hull. In this way he walked ahead, always in full contact, yet able to progress almost at normal pace. He counted his steps, and when he felt he was near the hull for which he was looking, stooped and began searching about the surface more mindlessly. His estimate had been close, and it took him only a moment to find the place where the meteoror had struck. He drew his lifeline taught and tied the loop to his belt, leaving the end of the line still snapped in place. Now, even though his knot might come loose, he was still fastened to the ship. He took the can of metal seal from his belt pouch, fumbling a bit because it was difficult working with such heavy gloves as those attached to his spacesuit. There was plenty of light from the billions of stars, nor did it matter what hour the ship's chronomes might indicate inside. It was always the same out here. He squatted down, still keeping both feet flat against the outer skin of the ship. Carefully he poured some of the sluggish viscous liquid metal into the funnel-shaped hole, which was over an inch wide at the hull's surface. Then he unslunged his torch. He snapped the lighter and adjusted the flame to a narrow pencil beam. With the beam, he melted the metal seal he had poured into the hull. In the cold depths of space, where the temperature was about absolute zero, the metal cooled almost instantly as he turned his torch away. He then added more seal, melted that, then more seal, and so on, a bit at a time, until the hull was completely filled, and the hull's surface once again smooth and even. Satisfied at last that the damage to the ship was completely repaired, he hooked his torch to his belt once more, recapped the can of remaining metal seal and stored it in his belt pouch. He rose and stood again for a few short moments, looking at the glory of the universe as it can only be seen from his spaceship. Then he made his way back to the lock and entered the ship. He touched the stud and the motor slowly closed the great outer door. When the red signal light showed it was airtight, he punched the other button, air filled the entry, and then the inner door opened. He went through into the ship, closed the inner door, and when that was tight started the motor that pumped the freshest air from the lock back into the ship. His brother had not stayed around to help him, so John had to strip the plastic from his zipper and around the base of the helmet by himself. It was an awkward job, as was trying to unscrew the lugs at the back of his shoulders, and he growled a bit beneath his breath because Jack had not waited, nor come back to help him. But his irritation quickly passed and he grinned to himself. He knew his brother so well. Jack simply had not thought to stay and help, or he would willingly have done so. Jack's taste and desires ran more to other things, John knew, to medicine, and to all growing things, whether plant, animal, or human. Jack had always been far more interested in what made life grow and perform its miracles than he had in how and why machines operated. And, John acknowledged honestly, it was a good thing for them all in this present emergency. If good old Jack wasn't half a doctor already, Pop would really be in a bad way, and so would all of them, if they had lost that steady and competent prop on whom they all leaned in so confidently. I sure wouldn't have known what to do, John admitted to himself, as the thought of his father made him hurry the removing of his suit. I probably would have run for my tool kit, not the first-aid one. He finally got the suit off and hung it back in the closet. He gathered up the scraps of used plastic and stuffed them into the nearby trash disposal chute. Then he ran into the living room and onto the side of his father's bunk, where his mother and brother were standing, watching. How is he? Just the same. You're sure he he isn't? No, he's still alive, and I'm sure he'll pull out in time. Only question is, how long it'll take? John's mind began turning with problems. What would they do while Pop was out? Who was to run the ship, make the calculations on orbits and trajectories? Who's to handle the controls of landing when we reach our destination, which won't be very long now? Who'll do the thousand and one things Pop had always done? Who'll make the decisions? Again the sense and knowledge of his personal loss came home, and young John Carver sank onto the deck of the bunk room. Again he was just a boy who had lost his dearest pal, his ideal. Pop just couldn't die. Who'd help him with his problems, teach him the many things he was always wanting to know? It just couldn't be that there would be no more of those tussles of friendly play, those boxing matches or wrestling belts by which his growing body adjusted to swift action and hard knocks. He could not make himself believe that there would be no more of these hours of practical instruction, or the long pleasant evenings when the big man would talk of the places where he had been, the things he had seen and done in his travels about the galaxy. For Tad Carver was one of the real pioneers of Deep Space. He had been an officer of the first ship to reach the stars, the planets of Cirrus. Deep Space travel was not yet a commonplace thing, though it was becoming so more swiftly with each passing year. John knew that there were now regular trips to the planets and some of the moons of his home solar system. One could have a two weeks vacation from Terra to Luna for a thousand credits, or a month's cruise to Mars or Venus for forty-hundred. Merchantships made fairly regular voyages to the planets of Cirrus and Vega and, less often, to one or two other even more distant worlds which had been found to contain friendly and civilized beings, not all of them humanoid, who were glad to engage in interstellar commerce. Other spaceships applied between Terra and the many newly discovered worlds that were being colonized by Earth's people. But it had been men like Tad Carver, who, cooperatively, had bought ships and surveyed the spaceways. It was they who had opened up those parts of the galaxy so far charted and who, incidentally, had made fortunes for themselves from the metals, strange jewels, and other rare objects they had discovered and brought it back, and for which the rich of Terra had paid so willingly and so handsomely. That was why, after a number of years and many such trips, Carver had been able to buy his own small ship, outfit it for deep space travel, and take his family with him on his further voyages of exploration and survey. They were now en route to a new portion of the galaxy, one never, so far as they knew, visited by human beings. But what do we do without Pop? John's mind went back to his problem. Who would be in command of their ship now? Mom didn't know a thing about the navigation of space. Look how she demanded he turn around right now. She was wonderful and John loved her dearly, but he also knew she would be absolutely out of place trying to make their decisions about where to go, how to get there, how to run the ship, and so on. She had always seemed content to keep house on the ship, just as she had on Terra, and paid but little attention to what else was going on. And Jack was just about as bad. The older boy was quick and logical thinking and knew a lot, but not about such things. John had been the one who was always tagging his father around, forever asking questions about how to do this. Why was that done? What did this machine do, and what was the theory behind it, and so on? He had always been working with machines, almost since he could total. He took them apart, not destructively, but questioningly, and was very soon able to put back together again correctly an endless succession of ever more complicated mechanisms. Recently he had begun the study of astrogation. He had also long been a math shark, and now knew enough to realize how little he really did know about this complicated subject. Though actually it was a great deal. Sobered, and suddenly aware of a growing maturity brought on by this terrific problem they faced, John sat up. He rose and went over to his mother's side. He touched her softly on the shoulder, and she looked up at him. At sight of his anxious face, she threw her arms about him. John-boy, what will we do now? How will we ever manage without Mr. C.? At this echo of his own questionings and doubts, the boy straightened, we'll make it all right, Mom. He went on with a rovato he certainly did not feel, but what she hoped she would think was genuine. We'll have to make up our minds what we're going to do, then do it. We'll keep on with Pop's plans, of course. This was a statement rather than a question. Why, why...? She seemed startled by the realization that she had to make a decision. I hadn't thought about that yet. She was silent a moment, then turned to her elder son, who had also risen and was listening intently. What do you think, Jack? You're older, so you'll have to take charge now and be the man of the family. The slender, studious, 18-year-old looked startled. I... I don't know, he stammered. His eyes suddenly filled with strange fears. I... I suppose we might as well go home. We don't know where we're going or what we were to do when we got there. He suddenly looked like a little boy who has lost everything and everyone in whom he had looked for and found comfort and security. Don't ask me, Mother. I don't know what we're going to do. We're apt to die without Father to keep us going safely. John stared at him, this brother he had always loved and to whom he had looked up as a strong, elder companion, in spite of their almost continuous, though friendly, bickerings, which never disturbed the warm affection underneath. Now he just couldn't believe his eyes and ears. This couldn't be Jack, the strong, reliable Jack. Suddenly he felt a surge of anger and distrust. Yet immediately he was ashamed of himself for such feelings. This wasn't any minnow of a predicament they were in. It was a very wail of a mess. He was scared himself and could understand just how Jack must feel. But by the great horned catfish he wasn't going to let himself cry about it any more, especially in front of Mom. Something had to be done and it would be done. A thought flashed through his mind and he strained with resolve. Shut up! He yelled at his brother. And when Jack and their Mother stared at him in amazement, John grinned calmly and said, half apologetically, just trying to snap you out of the dumps. I say we've got to think this out carefully and not make any snap decisions or give up like this. The ship's on automatic drive and decelerating so we don't have to worry about running it for some time. But Pop wouldn't like it if we didn't keep on. You know how important this trip is to him. Besides, he'll be waking up soon and even if he has to stay in his bunk he can tell us what to do. Do you know where we're going and why? Jack was still upset. Sure. Pop talked with me a lot about it. Their Mother looked from one to the other doubtfully, then smiled in a constrained manner. You—you're probably right, John. Mr. Seed did say that this would make or break us. I leave it up to my two big boys to discuss and suggest plans until your father is able to take charge again. With an effort she pulled herself together and now her smile was firmer, brighter. Meanwhile, I think we'd better have something to eat. We have to keep up our strength for whatever is coming, you know. End of Chapter 1 Recording by Todd Chapter 2 Of The Planet Mappers This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by J. Scott The Planet Mappers by Edward Everett Evans Chapter 2 When the boys woke up the next morning, their mother reported that their father had apparently had a restful night. Coming out of his coma briefly a couple of times. After breakfast, the boys went into the control room and began examining the various instruments and recorders on the panel to see if they could figure out how much longer it would take them to reach the system their father was seeking. Through the visa plates they could now see not only the sun toward which John said they were heading, but even its nearer planets were beginning to show appreciable disks. As they were studying these, Jack suddenly asked, How do you suppose we happen to run into a meteor way out here in space like that? John shook his head helplessly. Darned if I can figure it out. I always suppose such stuff was only found inside a planetary system. Must be there some in deep space though, since we sure as Perch got hit by one. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small marble-sized stone. Here it is. I hunted around and found it last night. It dented Father's bulkhead, but must have lost so much momentum it couldn't penetrate. Just one of those billions-to-ones chances, eh? Jack looked up from his examination of the stone. Yeah, there's still so much about space nobody knows yet. Jack thought, silently for a moment, and then asked, Well, what do you think we should do next? Keep going, natch. John's voice was earnest. We can't be more than a couple of days away from the nearest planets, and we're over six weeks out of Terra. Pop said this system we're heading for has four or five planets at least, and that probably two and three and maybe four would be fairly Earth-like inhabitable. So long as we're so close, it would be wrong if we didn't at least take a close-up look, see, Adam. Yes, slowly. Father'd want us to do that. You know darn well he would. He sunk almost everything he's got into this ship and this trip, and if we miss now, the government probably wouldn't give us another exclusive crack at it, even if we could scrape up the credits to come out here again. Didn't Father say something the other day about his spectro-analyzer, you know, Annie? Showing there was yeah! Annie popped up strong on that, and that's another reason we've got to keep going, especially since you think Pop will snap out of it in a few days. You're sure of that, aren't ya? He peered intently into his brother's eyes. Yes, as far as I can tell, there's a concussion where his head hit the floor, but I don't think it's too bad, and it should wear off soon. John sighed with relief. If—if he was dead, or dying, it would be different, and I'd say go home. But there's another thing. Before we left Terra we heard a rumor, Slick Bogan was chasing around out in this sector, and we don't want to let him beat us to this system. Bogan? That's the notorious pirate, isn't it? No. If he's out here, we don't want to let him beat us. Though, what could we do if he did try? I don't know. We'll figure that out if he tries to hijack us. You hope. There was a long silence while the boys studied their instruments again. Then, what about landing, chubby? Can you do it? Well, I've been studying up on it. Put on the sleep instructor last night. John was suddenly half-frightened with this prospect, but determined to keep his voice level. I've helped Pop land the crate several times, even handling the controls under his instructions, so I think I can do it, with your reading off the manual to me. Anyway, if— Well, if Pop gets worst, we've got to land some time, so we might as well try it here as any time or anywhere. Jack stood silent a long moment, rubbing his hands through his hair as he did when concentrating. Then he looked up with determination. John, you and I have got ourselves a job to do. And now his voice was steady and earnest. It's up to us to take care of Mother and to keep her from worrying. So, whenever we're where she can hear us, we've got to act brave and sure of ourselves, no matter how we feel inside. Yes. She's all broken up about Pop. We have to do most of the work, too, so she— No. Jack shook his head. That'd be the worst thing we could do. She isn't sick, physically, and if she keeps busy, she won't have time to worry too much. So, we must keep her from having too much idle time. Oh. Well, maybe you're right, Al. Yes. I guess you are, at that. That's more your dish. But, we can act like everything's going to jet fair. It's a deal. He held out his hand, and the two brothers clasped in agreement. They went into the living quarters. Hi, Mom. Lunch ready yet? I'm starved. Mrs. Carver looked up apathetically from the recline seat where she had been sitting, worrying, during the several hours the boys had been in the control room. She looked as though she were almost shocked at their seemingly heartless question— forgetting that she, herself, had used the same excuse the night before. But, in a moment, she smiled tremulously. I guess I let myself forget my job and that we have to go through the motions of living. She rose slowly, and the boys came and put their arms around her. Mr. C. wouldn't want me to break down like this. I'll try to do better. She gave her sons a quick hug and went into the little galley where they heard her moving about from the deep freeze to the cupboards, to induction-cooker. Soon the smells of appetizing food spread throughout the ship. John had gone back into the control room and picked up the real book on Astrogation, opening it to the chart of the pilot panel. He was still studying this and tracing from the diagrams in the book the controls, switches, and recorders on the panel itself. He memorized each one as he went along and made sure he knew its functions. When Jack called him into lunch, John carried the reel with him and continued studying it as he absentmindedly ate. His preoccupation with it raised his mother's fears again. Can you make anything out of it, son? Huh? He roused himself then and granded her. Sure, Mom, it's easy. Pop taught me most of it already, and I'm just refreshing my mind. I'll set us down in one piece, don't you fear? How soon will we arrive? About to-morrow noon, I think, by our clocks. No telling what time it'll be there. I'll take measurements again and make sure, right after I'm through eating, we must be about ready to step up our deceleration. He looked at his mother more intently, and his voice was so earnest it broke from baritone to a childish treble in places. Mom, I'm not questioning your authority or anything, but you said yesterday that Jack was to be in charge until Pop wakes up? Now, Jack doesn't know anything at all about astrogation, and while I don't know it all, I do know more than he does. And I'll have to handle it. So what about me being in charge of the ship when we're in flight or on landings and take-offs, and Jack in charge of other times? Though whatever you say goes, of course, he added hastily. Somewhat to his surprise, his brother sided with him. The elder seemed to realize that this was no time for one of their friendly squabbles about which one was to be top man, that their very safety depended on the fact that whichever knew the most about any one thing should be the one to have the say about it. The mother looked from one to the other helplessly. I... I guess that will be all right. You two figure out things between you. You're all the men I have now, until your father. She almost broke into tears then. But she pulled herself together. Yes, you do whatever you think is best about such things. We'll handle it, Jack assured her. But you'll still be boss-in-chief. You say when and what, and Jack and I'll figure out how, John grinned. She stretched out her arms and grasped each by the hand. My big boys, I'm sure we'll come through safely. You're getting to be real men. Then she changed her tone and asked, You're going to land on one of those planets then, as Mr. C. planned? Being so close, seems best, Jack answered. How long we stay will depend on what we do or don't find there. Yes, we need a few days rest on firm ground before we start back to Terra at least. We want to freshen our air, if we can, and maybe get some fresh food. Besides, we have to try to get all the necessary data to prove Pop's discovery if the planets aren't uninhabited but worth colonizing. I agree, seconded Jack, even if we have to land in some secluded spot and just rest. I'll leave it up to you then. Their mother appeared more like her usual happy self than the boys had seen her since the accident. I'll keep house, like I always have, and you boys do whatever else you think best. Jack laughed. We'll be like those musketeers, and that whole book I read some time ago, all for one and one for all. He held out his hand dramatically. Put your hand in mine and we'll all swear to it. Laughing they did as he suggested, although their mother pretended severity. You know I don't like swearing, boys. Jack grinned, but I meant this in the sense of taking an oath, not of cussing. Oh, she crinkled her nose at him, grinning with her old-time impishness. That's different. John rose from the table. I'll get back to my studying. Now you listen to your mother and don't study too hard, she warned, knowing how he was apt to lose himself in his books. You need plenty of rest for tomorrow. All right, Mom. But when she went into the control room long after dinner, he was still deep in his real book. She took it away from him. Get to bed, John. You promised. Sorry, Mom. Just got so interested I forgot time. He kissed her. Night, Mom, and don't worry, we'll make out swell. I'm sure of it. Her words were brave, but he could see the tears were perilously close. You better ask Jack for some barbit, or you won't sleep any better than you did last night, he counseled. Remember, he and I are going to take turns watching Pop. Thank you, son. Good night. He touched a switch, and the glow lights dimmed and went dark as he followed her out. All the next morning Mrs. Carver and her two sons were in the control room, except for their frequent trips to Mr. Carver's bunk to see how their patient was getting along. They were studying through the telescopic visa-plates the solar system they were rapidly approaching. John had figured the sun was a Type G dwarf, much like Saul, but a little larger. It had, they now knew, only five planets. Three of these, two, three, and four, had seven satellites among them. From their distances from the sun the boys figured that probably two and three would have climates that human colonists with some adaptation could stand. Now they were peering even more closely into their plates as the ship circled the globe beneath them. John had maneuvered it into a spiral course around planet two, in such a manner that from a height of about a hundred miles they could get a good view of the world beneath them in their telescopic plates. Lots of plant life, but I haven't seen anything that looked like cities, Jack said that last. Nor I from their mother. And me neither, John added. Their first measurements of this new planet had shown it to be almost the size of Terra, and they had been delighted to see that there was a moon of considerable size, although not as large as Luna. It was about one hundred and fifty thousand miles out. There are a number of large seas, or oceans, Jack commented, without taking his eyes from the visit plate. Look at that life, though! It evidently coats the whole planet. From here it looks like jungle. Lots of lakes and rivers on it. And in those plains we saw? John was excited. It sure looks like a wonderful world where men can live. As they crisscrossed the planet from pole to pole, they saw small ice fields around each. That means they'll be varied seasons here, John stated. Not necessarily, Jack argued. In fact, while possible, it's not even probable. Says you, John sniffed. Then later. I figure the year here at about three hundred days. Just an approximation, of course. But probably within five percent. I'm not too good at such things. You're probably wrong, Jack snorted, and their mother interpreted what she thought was the beginning of another of their interminable arguments. Are you going to land here or go on to another planet first? She asked John. I'm going low enough to test the atmosphere and temperature before I decide, he told her. Well, resignedly, do as you boys think best. John manipulated his controls, and as the ship tilted slightly, they could see in their plates the ground coming closer. Slowly, under the increased reaction of the powerful bow tubes, the ship slowed until it was cruising at about one thousand miles an hour and about a mile above the surface, or the tops of the vegetation at least. Then John leveled it off. You know how to test atmosphere, Jack? He asked. The temp now is about ninety-nine point four degrees Fahrenheit, so it probably isn't over a hundred and ten at ground level. Yes, father taught me that. Jack moved over to the hull wall, where there was an atmospheric trap and the mechanism that tested and recorded the contents of any air they might encounter on a new planet. He worked this and studied the results. This latest invention of Terran aeroscopic techniques was simple to operate. A chart, already prepared to show the constituents of Earth's atmospheric limits compatible to human needs, was placed beneath a stylus. The latter drew a curve showing the components of the new air, and if the line did not go above or below the red one on the prepared charts, the atmosphere was safe for human consumption. Garmin dioxide's a little higher, and when I tested density with a spring balance, the ten-pound weight showed nine and a half. Jack reported. That means we'll feel a little lighter and won't find walking and lifting as hard. Their mother had been hovering nervously in the background. Now she stepped up and asked, are you sure it's safe there? We will be before we go outside, mother. Jack assured her, then turned to John. Where are you going to land? As soon as I find a good spot, keep your eyes peeled for a large clearing. But they'd only gone a few more miles when Jack yelled, there, John, off to the left a mile or so. At his words, John increased the negative acceleration. His darting eyes spotted the clearing, and he put the ship into a circle and elevated the nose so they climbed to a height of some twenty miles. Grab that astrogation book and get ready to read me the checks, Owl. Mom, you strap in. Is Pop all right? Mrs. Carver assured him that on her recent trip to her husband's bunk, she had seen to it that he was safely fastened down in anticipation of their landing. Jack picked up the book and opened it to the bookmarked page. He sank into the co-pilot's seat and fastened his safety belt. Ready when you are. Their mother, now reported. All fast, John. A moment while the younger boy glanced quickly at his various dials, then he said tensely. Shoot! Check to cellarometer. On the hairline. Check outside air pressure. Seven, four, two. Terrain indicator. Level. Altimeter. Four thousand, three hundred. Going down a hundred per second. Letter down. Anxious seconds of jockeying. John's eyes flashing from indicator to gauge to tail-tail to screen. His hands and feet moving here and there on the controls. The two others gasped as they saw the ground rushing toward them so swiftly. The ship landed, but with a jar that shook them all. Off-bow retarders, Jack yelled. The roar of the tubes ceased, and they were almost stunned by the sudden silence. Down-landing props. The grind of a motor, then the gentle jar as the ship seemed to straighten a bit. Props down. Close fuel petcocks. Closed. Shut off fuel pump. Shut. All controls in neutral. John's hands flashed over several levers, knobs, and switches. Everything in neutral. He turned in his seat then, and his face were a wide grin of triumph. We did it! We're down! He noticed his mother's white, strained face and called to her. Relax, Mom! I set you down in one piece just as I said I would. Jack broke in with a scoffing comment, although his eyes showed the secret pride he felt in his younger brother's ability. Lousy landing. What's the big idea jolting us like that? You want to bust up the ship? Oh, boys! Their mother hastened to break up this incipient quarrel before it had the chance to get started, which was exactly what Jack intended. I think John did exceptionally well considering it was his first solo landing. I'm not hurt at all, and I'm sure the ship isn't either. Jack pretended to look ashamed, although neither of the boys could completely hide their grins and had to face away from her. Yes, I was just letting off steam. It really was a swell job, chubby. But John had already pushed out of his seat and was at one of the window-ports peering eagerly outside. However, he did fling back over his shoulder. You helped a lot, Al. I couldn't have done it without you. The two others came up quickly to stand beside him, staring at this strange new world. The clearing in which the ship rested, they could now see, was about a hundred acres in extent. Near the ship, the strange grass with which the clearing was carpeted was seared and black from the landing blasts, and burned in places. But toward the huge trees that walled the clearing the grass was its natural green state, covered with tiny whitish blossoms. The trees, visible from the ship, were mostly very tall, averaging well over three hundred feet, the Carvers estimated. They looked somewhat like Douglas Furs, but with a difference the Terrans could not at the moment figure out. The three could see no animal or bird life, but guess this did not mean there was none. The jungle might be teeming with life, but it would probably have been frightened away for the time being by this strange, fire-breathing monster that had descended from the sky to land on their world. They go safe to go out, Jack asked. Now you listen to your mother and don't take any chances. We won't, John told her, then answered his brother. We'll wait an hour and see what we can see from here, and then decide. I sure want a closer look at that plant life. Jack's eyes glistened, and he ran to get his binoculars to see better. I ought to examine the hull and tubes, too, to make sure they aren't fouled or corroded, John told his mother. It's nearly time for lunch, she turned away. At least you must stay until after that. It was plain she was still worried, and the boys tried to reassure her and quiet her fears. When she called, they reluctantly left their vantage points at the ports and went in to eat the lunch she had prepared. Several times she had to caution them against bolting their food, as they talked eagerly of what they might find here. Finally finished, John rose. Come on, Al, he urged. Let's go outside and give it a once over, lightly. Better break out our rifles first, the elder advised, no telling what we'll run into. If it's dangerous enough for guns, I wish you wouldn't go. Their mother was worried again. They're just a precaution, same as father would take if he was in charge. Jack soothed. We won't go out of this clearing the first time. You'd better give Mr. C. another feeding first, hadn't you? Jack consulted his wrist, Cronom. Yes, it's nearly time, and we might not be back by the regular hour. The problem of keeping their father fed and in good health, apart from his head and leg injuries, had not proven too hard when they became convinced that he was not going to wake up often enough to eat normally. Jack, while working as an orderly in the Centropolitan Hospital, the previous summer, had assisted the interns and nurses in giving intravenous feedings to unconscious patients, so he knew the general procedure, as well as the composition and quantity of the nutrient liquid to be administered. Will you come help me, mother?" He had asked when he was sure he was ready for the first feeding. We've got to find certain things in our food stores. You're sure you know how to do this? Yes, it's not hard. We need liquid proteins, salt, sugar, and glucose. With his mother helping, they had gathered these things from their stores and taken them into the galley. There, he had carefully measured out and mixed these ingredients into the proportions his book stated. Then he and John had gone into the workshop, and there the Younger, under his brother's supervision, and with the pictures of the apparatus as a guide, had rigged up a drip regulator into the mouth of a large bottle. To this they had attached a long slender plastic tube, and to the far end of that a large hollow feeding needle. As the others watched anxiously, Jack had inserted the needle into the large vein on the inside of his father's left elbow. With his thumb, Jack had softly rubbed the vein just above the needle's point to assist the flow of the nutrient. Soon it was done. Mr. Carver had stirred, and his eyelids had fluttered when the needle was inserted, but he had not fully regained consciousness. That first feeding so successfully accomplished, Mrs. Carver did not seem to worry quite so much about her husband, although she was careful to keep track of the feeding times and to remind her sometimes forgetful son of his duty. The feeding given, this day, the boys consulted together. Shall we wear our spacesuits? John asked. I don't see why it's hot outside, but bearable, and the air's all right, Jack answered positively. I not only tested it, but I breathed the sample I took through the trap. It smells good. It hasn't hurt me anyway. We'll take our guns, and I want my magnifying glass and knapsack for specimens. And I'll put some multi-form tools in my belts. Then, in case there's anything that needs doing on the tubes or hull, I can do it quickly. The two brothers assembled their gear, and John was just reaching for the button to open the inner door, when they stopped short and shrank back. For a terrific roar came from outside. Such a tremendous sound! It penetrated even the hull of their ship. THE PLANET MAPPERS by Edward Everett Evans Chapter 3 At that horrid noise, the two boys stood frozen a moment. Then, with one accord, raced to the control room, where they appeared out of the quartzite ports. Great whales! Look at that thing! John shouted as they caught their first glimpse outside. Yow! Jack yelled at amazement. What do you suppose it is? Never saw anything like it before! They stared in awe at the tremendous creature standing in the little clearing, looking belligerently toward their ship. It was so unlike any earth beast, it was no wonder the boys were startled. A huge body was covered with heavily matted fur. It must have been at least a dozen feet long, and stood about eight feet tall. But the striking thing was that the body was triangular, and the beast was three-legged, two in the back and one in front. There was no tail, and the blocky legs, one at each corner of the weirdly triangular body, seemed to end in clawed feet. The head was shaped something like that of a horse, but the huge mouth, now partly open, was seen to contain great fangs, larger than those of any beast the boys had ever seen in Terran zoos or in any planet they had visited. Two of the tusks were almost like the ones they had seen in pictures of ancient sabertooth tigers. The whole get-up gave such an effective fierceness that both boys felt a shiver run down their spines. Jack's voice was tremulous as he spoke. He eyed. I'm sure glad I'm not out there with that. John was slow in answering. Yet, if we're going out at all, he hesitated, then continued, we'll either have to chase it away or kill it. If we can, his brother retorted, I think our guns'll handle it, John said. The question is, how are we going to do it without exposing ourselves? Jack thought swiftly. Maybe we could open the outer lock door crack, just enough to see through and name our guns. Yes, I guess that's it. Don't say anything to mother, Jack cautioned. Of course not, silly. Come on, let's see if we can kill it. The two ran to the airlock and opened the inner door. Leaving it open, they examined their guns to make sure they were fully loaded. Then John punched the button to open the outer lock door. It was possible to do this while the inner one was still open, since there was now air outside to equalize the pressure. When the door had swung open a couple of feet, John stopped the motor and joined his brother who was peering through the opening. The huge creature was still facing them, about 40 yards from the ship. One of its rear feet was now pawing at the ground, tearing up great hunks of sod while it roared a mighty challenge time and again. I'll kneel and aim for the left eye. You stand over me and try to hit the other. Jack took swift command. Then try for the brain or heart and keep pumping while our ammo lasts or until we kill it. All right, John took his place and aimed his gun. Count three and we'll fire together. Jack knelt and steadied his rifle with one elbow, one his extended knee. One, two, three, fire! As the two shots crashed out the creature sprang into the air a couple of feet. A great scream of pain and rage shook the very ground and made the air tremble. It hesitated only a moment. Then charged towards the ship at tremendous speed. The boys pumped shots as fast as they could. Both had hit the head, but neither had put out an eye as they had hoped. They kept firing as fast as they could work their guns, blood spouted from numerous wounds on the beast, but still it came on madly with swift, though lumbering bounds. Back quick and shut the door. Jack yelled as his hammer clicked on an empty gun. He pushed backward and scrambled to his feet as John leaped to the door controls. The heavy door swung shut and the boys breathed a sigh of relief. But almost at once their eyes filled with fear. They cringed back when they felt the ship itself shudder as that heavy body struck against it. As swiftly as their trembling legs would carry them, they raced back to the control room. They reached it just in time to see the huge tripod lunge against the side of the ship a second time, and again held their breaths as it did so once more. The beast's slow mind evidently realized, then, that it could not so easily overthrow this strange, great thing that had appeared so mysteriously in his jungle clearing. It backed away some little distance, still roaring out in that horrible voice. Once again the beast bunched its mighty muscles for another attack. When it seemed to stop in the middle of a roar, it wobbled a bit. Slowly its mighty legs buckled and it sprawled on the ground. A few spasmatic shutters, a convulsive shiver that ran through the tremendous frame, and then it was still. The boys let out their breaths. They were just beginning to congratulate themselves when the door of the control room opened and their mother's frightened face appeared. What was that, boys? I was taking a nap, but your shooting woke me up. Then I felt the ship shake as though there was an earthquake or something. It was nothing, John began, but Jack went up to her and put his arm around her. It was just a big animal, mother. John and I killed it. An animal? Big enough to jar the ship that way? Where is it? she gasped. Jack pointed silently toward the port, and she hurried to look out. At sight of that huge mountain of flesh she cried out, and her face became ever more white and strained. What a horrible beast! Are you sure it's dead? Sure enough, it wasn't hard to kill. Jack minimized the danger and made himself grin encouragingly. I'm going out and hack off some steaks. Bet they'll be good, too. You'll do no such thing! she cried, shocked. Now you boys listen to your mother. You're not to budge outside the ship. I want you to leave this awful world at once. The two boys looked at their mother, and suddenly they seemed to fill strength and maturity growing within them. As though the act had been discussed and rehearsed, they both came up and, taking their mother each by an arm, led her out of the control room and back to their living quarters. There they sat her down in her favorite reclined seat. Look, mother, you know how much we both love you and want to obey you always, Jack said earnestly. But we're in a peculiar situation here. On a strange planet, and pop out of commission, John broke in. I know John and I are still boys, Jack continued, but we're all the men here right now. I think you've got to begin trusting us to make the decisions. Jack's right, John chimed in. We're not going to take any full chances, but I say we've got to go ahead and do things just as we think pop would have if he was well and in command, as best we can, that is. Mrs. Carver looked from one son to the other doubtfully for a long minute, then smiled tremulously. I keep forgetting you're not my babies any longer, she said slowly. Mothers, do that, you know. You're both almost grown men. I know you have good minds, almost mature minds. The various things you've been through have done that. So I release you from my apron strings. You two take charge and do whatever you feel necessary. They threw themselves on their knees, one on either side of her, their arms about her. Oh, mother, we didn't mean it like that. We've never felt you had us tied to your apron strings, mom, John added. We still want to be your boys, even though we do have to whack like men, at least until pop takes charge again. Her smile was now warm and tender, all hesitancy and most of the fear is gone. Mr. C. and I have tried to make you self-reliant and resourceful, and he'll be as proud of you as I am. You're right. You are the men of the party and must do whatever you decide should be done. But be careful, she could not help adding. We will, mother. We think just as much of us as you do, John quipped. They left her sitting there then, and went back to the control room. As they came close to the window-ports, they peered through eagerly, and were surprised to see the huge carcass of the tripod, literally covered with strange-looking winged, featherless but fur-covered bird things. The latter had large, sharp beaks, with which they were tearing great gobs of flesh from the hulk, gulping them down with ravenous relish. Scavengers! John exclaimed, his eyes glued to the scene. Yes, there go our steaks. Jack's tone was so lugubrious that John looked up and laughed. I had hoped for some fresh meat. There'll be plenty later on, John consoled his brother. Probably this one would have been too tough anyway. Jack suddenly chuckled. Yes, like the fox said, the grapes were probably sour. They grinned companulably at each other, then turned back to watch through the port again. So numerous and so voracious were the scavenger birds, they within a few minutes they had even that mammoth carcass stripped of flesh, leaving only the huge bones. One by one the birds then flew into the forest, the last ones fighting among themselves with a few remaining scraps of stringy flesh or entrails before they, too, took wing. Shall we try it now? Jack asked after the last of the bird things had gone. Might as well. We sure don't want to be cooped up here for ever. They went back to the airlock again, making sure their guns were reloaded and their ammo belts filled. When both boys were in the lock, John punched the button that closed the inner door, then opened the outer one. Safer for Mom to have one of them shut, he exclaimed. The two stood there a moment, looking all about them, except for that strange pile of huge bones. Now covered thickly with some sort of reddish, chitinous covered ant-like insects, the clearing seemed empty of all life except the peculiar flower-like grasses. John climbed down to the ground, and Jack followed closely. They walked a short distance away, then turned and looked back, scanning carefully in all directions to make sure no enemy was at their backs. Let's go over and study that jungle a bit. Jack suggested when they were sure their rear was not, apparently, menaced. John had been looking at the remains of the beast. I'd like to try to salvage those tusks, he said, and with Jack at his side went up to them. The two boys managed, after considerable work, to get the great fangs out of the jaws. They brushed off the clinging insects, then ran back and placed the tusks inside the lock. Thanks, Owl. Now we'll go take a look at your trees. Then I want to examine the tubes and the outside of the ship, but we'd better stick together at least this first time. So also to cover you, then, when you've had a look see, we'll go back and you keep guard while I see what shape the boat's in. Right, let's get going. Once past the seared place, they found that the peculiar, flower-tipped grasses were as stiff as wheat stubble. The grass blades were knife sharp, but unable to penetrate the heavy, knee-high leather boots the boys wore. Jack stooped to examine and study them. The blossoms all seemed to have three of these whitish petals, he said as he rose at last, and that whitish bulb in the center will be the seed pod. When they started on again, they found walking difficult until they goered the trick of scuffling along without trying to raise their feet above the tops of the grasses each step. Then it was easier, particularly since the gravity here was about five percent less than that of terra, so they weighed less and their strength consequently seemed greater. The trees were closely clustered for the most part, and after studying them for some time Jack said, There are a lot like some of the pines back home, though not too much like any I ever saw. Notice how there's no limbs until you get up thirty feet or so? John asked. They'd be hard to climb without spurs. Indeed, after anyone did reach the first low limbs, he would not be in much better shape for climbing, for the branches were ten to fifteen feet apart all the way up. Don't see any fruits, though maybe we're just not where any fruit trees are growing, Jack said after a bit. Yes, lots of woods back home don't have any fruit or nut trees in them. The strange grasses grew only in small occasional clusters inside the forest, but the ground was so deeply covered with fallen twigs, rotted branches, and the needle-like leaves of previous years that walking was extremely difficult, almost impossible in places. There probably trails somewhere. That tripod would have made some sort of path. He sure was heavy enough, and if this was part of his regular staffing ground, he undoubtedly used the same route. Maybe, but not necessarily. He might have been attracted by our descent. Anyway, we can look for that later. Let's go back now so you can look over the ship while it's still light. We should be ready for a quick take-off, if we run into anything too hot to handle. John looked a surprise, he felt. This sudden responsibility was making Jack more practical than he had ever been before, just the same as it was making him. After all, it was to be expected. John knew Jack had an excellent mind. The elder brother had just used it for what John had previously felt were unimportant things, not mechanics, math, or such practical interests. But the way Jack had taken care of Pop, the way he had figured out how to feed him, and the right medicines to use on the bruise on his head, that must have injured Pop inside, and had known how to set his leg. It was a dang good thing, after all, that Jack had spent so much time studying those other subjects. Maybe mechanics and other sciences were not the main things in life, after all. Other things had their uses too. Now the two went back to the ship and around to the stern. There, while Jack stayed on the ground on guard, watching in all directions in turn for any possible dangers, John surveyed the great driving tubes. He climbed the metal rung set into the ship for that purpose, so he could reach each of the tubes. With his glow torch he studied the lining of each tube, crawling partially inside each one in turn. Finally he backed out of the last one and down to the ground. They're all in fine shape, he reported happily to his brother. Can't find a single thin spot in any of them. That new alloy is really something. Although the older brother did not know too much about such things, he felt a sudden relief at this report, for he felt that John did know, and he had real confidence in him. He had long realized the differences in their temperaments, and for several years had known his brother was almost a genius in the mechanical field. He remembered mentioning this matter to their father one time, and how his eyes had shown with pride as he answered, John's really remarkable. Some day, if he keeps on like this, he's going to be known all over the galaxy because of what he'll do in mechanics. Nor had Jack been jealous of this high praise of his younger brother. John's just a kid, he had said, and he's thoughtless rather than conceited. But sometimes he makes me so darned bad. His father laughed. Yes, like all kids, he hates the thought of letting anyone get ahead of him. That's particularly true of younger brothers. They feel within themselves that they are just as good or better than the older members of the family, and sometimes can't help showing it. Jack grinned. I'll bust him one yet some day, though, if he doesn't watch out. But he knew, and so did his father, that he never would. For both knew the real love that existed between the two brothers. Jack realized that his swiftly growing brother, now several inches taller and many pounds heavier than he, had a terrific mind. So, as now, he generally respected John's ideas, and shrugged away any momentary anger when John was particularly bossy. Jack followed as John walked slowly along the side of the ship, giving it a careful survey, especially toward the bottom, to see if anything on the lower surfaces appeared wrong. I'll climb up and give the top a going over tomorrow, John said as they went ahead. The star rover was really a space yacht. It was 72 feet long and about 18 feet in diameter at its thickest part, which was about a third of the way back from the bow. The front of the ship was bluntly rounded, and contained the control room with its thick quartzite window ports, and just outside that room the four bow retarding tubes, which John also carefully examined when the boys reached them. Just after the control room were the living quarters. These consisted of the large comfortable living room, the two small but compact bunk rooms, the bath toilet, the kitchen, and many ingeniously designed closet and drawer spaces for stowing personal belongings, clothing, and supplies. Beyond these were the storerooms for food, tools, and other supplies and equipment. The stern two-fifths of the ship was devoted to the storage of fuel and the various machines that drove the space yacht and kept it a self-contained world while in space. Here were the refrigerators and the heaters, the air and water purifiers, the generators of electricity for light and cooking and for their auxiliary motors, such as the ones controlling the airlock doors and pumps. In the lower part of the hull, under their living and control rooms and storerooms, were hydroponic tanks which not only grew vegetables and greens for their table, but which furnished oxygen to replace that unavoidably lost when the locks were opened. At the far end were the driving mechanisms. The latter were the latest developments in the atomic-powered field, and were surprisingly small for the tremendous work they did. Even John did not yet fully understand how they operated, though he knew how to run them. He did know they took specially treated copper in the form of small nuggets and utilized the tremendous force locked within their atoms as a propelling medium by which the ship operated. In some manner, these nuggets were vaporized inside the generators, into which they were automatically fed from the storage bins as needed, the power controls regulating the speed with which they were fed into the generators. This vaporized copper was run through some sort of a modified cyclotron-type mechanism where the binding force of its atoms was liberated. That indescribable power then forced its vaporized particles out through the tubes. Using the Newtonian law of action and reaction to propel the ship. Suddenly John turned to his brother. Hey, I just happened to think. We ought to rig up a siren or something, so mom can call us if she needs us while we're away from the ship. Sounds like a swell idea, can fix? Sure, nothing to it. We may even have one among the stores. If not, it's just a diaphragm inside a tube oscillated by electricity. I'll see if we've got one, or else make one and install it. As they neared the entrance to the ship they saw their mother standing in the open lock, getting a breath of fresh air and looking about the clearings with an interested expression. John had just opened his mouth to call to her when suddenly, without warning, without even a change in the light or feeling in the air, rain began coming down in great sheets. The boys, after only a momentary start of surprise, raced for the airlock. Their mother stayed to help them climb in. But by the time they were inside and the outer door was closed, they were wet through to the skin. Wow, that's sure some storm! What if it's a regular feature here? I wouldn't know, Jack Panted. Did you get a look at that lightning and hear the thunder? Didn't take time! I was too busy running! John laughed as he tried to wring the worst of the water out of his coveralls before going through the living-room to the funk-room, where they would change to dry garments. When they came out, their mother, now also in dry clothes, met them with a smile. I think your father is getting better. He moved about quite a bit a while ago. Though he didn't completely regain consciousness. Wonderful! That's super! Later, as the three were eating dinner, Jack suddenly laid down his fork in excitement. Just happened to think. We didn't see any cities here, so doesn't that make this a prime discovery? That it do! That it do! John said delightedly. Then that means we have the right to name and claim this system. Unless there are intelligent inhabitants on some of the other planets. Seems to me, if there were any, they'd be here. This is certain to be the most logical world to support life. What'll we call this system? Caveria, of course. Stupid, after pop! John answered witheringly. That's very thoughtful of you, son. His mother smiled at him fondly. We'll call the son Caveria, then, and the three planets will be Tad, Marcy, Jack, John, and Rover. Ah! How corny can you get, John sniffed! Since there are five, I know the fifth should be named for the ship, and we can't very well call it Star Rover. But certainly not just Rover, either. Why not leave off the last R and just call it Rove, their mother suggested. So well, good! The two had claimed it once. That means this one is named after you, mom. How does it feel to have a whole world named after you? You ought to know, she retorted with a smile that brought out her dimples in the old way. Do you've each got one named for you? Then let's call this moon Diana after the ancient goddess of the moon, Jack said. Look, Owl, this is mom's planet. She has to write to name her own moon. John's voice was almost a sneer. I think Diana is a very nice name, and I'll accept that. Although I'm going to make it Diane, his mother soothed. That has always been my favorite girl name. If I'd ever had a daughter, I would probably have named her Diane. So it will make it a doubly fine name for my moon. Haven't time to measure away it now, but I'll bet it's big enough and close enough to cause tides, John said meditatively. What's that got to do with the price of onions and permuta? Nothing, just thought it was interesting. Well, bet for me. Need a good rest tonight. Why especially, son? What do you plan for tomorrow? Just some more exploring, that's all. And we'll be careful. John added hastily as he saw the familiar words forming on her lips. Night, mom. End of Chapter 3, Recording by Todd Edward Everett Evans Chapter 4 At breakfast the next morning, John suddenly stopped eating. Say, as we were coming down, did you notice a small river or creek just over there to the right? I was pretty busy at the time, but I seem to remember something of this sort. Yes, there was one near, but don't know just how far, why? The boy grinned. If there's a stream, there's probably fish. I was thinking we could get some fresh supplies that way. You and your fishing. Don't you ever think of anything else? Sure I do. But I notice you always eat your share when I catch any and mom cooks them. Their mother said quickly, some fresh fish would taste good, boys. If you have time and can catch any, I know we would all appreciate them. Look, Jack, you want to explore some more of that jungle? And I want to see if there's any of that stuff Pop was looking for near here. We can just as well do both while working toward that creek, and I can take my old, take my rod along. But first we've got to set up our marker here in the clearing. That's right, I'd almost forgotten you're telling us about that, and we don't want to stay too long either. Didn't you say we have to place one on each planet in order to prove our claim as original discoverers? Yes, and one in orbit around the sun too. John pushed back his chair and rose. I'll go get one from the storeroom. I'll get my specimen cases ready and seat of the guns. Jack too rose, then forstalled his mother by turning to her. I'll feed father first, and we'll be careful outside. You can call us back with the new siren John installed if you need us. All right, boys, she smiled at them. Mr. C seemed to rest well last night, although I do wish he would regain full consciousness. I've plenty of housekeeping to keep busy while you're gone. Really should do some washing, but that doesn't take long. Just don't stay out too late. We won't, they both assured her. We'll be back long before dark. The marker which John fetched from the storeroom and placed near the interlock door, ready to take outside and set up, was one developed by the scientists and techniques of Terra for just such use. It consisted of an exceptionally strong broadcasting unit that beamed the message of a tape continuously toward Terra. John made up the tape while Jack was giving the feeding. It read, This planetary system was first discovered by Tad Carver on 14th January 2136. This is the second planet and has been named Marcy. Over and over at five minute intervals, the sender would broadcast that message on a beam aimed at Terra. A controlling mechanism was a marvelously precise uranium clock, and a small atomic motor with fuel enough for five years gave all the needed power. By the terms of the Terran colonial laws, this was supposed to entitle the prime discoverer to certain rights in the system. For one thing, he would receive a one half percent share of the value of all minerals, oils, jewels, and certain other natural resources later colonists might rest from those planets for 20 years following his discovery and the acceptance of his claim. In this way, the colonial board of the World Government of Terra sponsored and assured the far flung exploration which the development of deep space travel had made possible. The dangers and expense were so considerable that something well worthwhile had to be offered to make individuals or companies willing to gamble on the hardships and tremendous costs of exploration. When the boys left the ship to place the marker, they left both locked doors open so that the fresh morning air from outside could circulate through the ship, replacing the somewhat stuffy, although chemically pure air that their purifiers kept renewed. Keep your eyes and ears open and shut the doors if you think there's any danger. Both boys cautioned their mother after making sure she knew how to work the door controls. I will, she promised with a laugh and couldn't help adding. Just you be as careful as well. The boys carried the signal sender to a distant corner of the clearing to what John said was a good spot. The book says to dig a hole and plant it with the top projecting three inches above the ground whenever such a thing as possible. You know what to do, so take charge, Jack said simply. When they had dug the hole and placed the sender in it, they shoveled the dirt back, then John opened the lid. He started the tape reels in the broadcasting unit, then carefully shut and locked the cover. In digging, they found the ground here to be damp and soggy, apparently from that terrific downpour of the previous evening. It was almost like a wet clay, although, even to their inexperienced eyes, it seemed to be a very rich type of soil. Look how wet it is, even over two feet down, John said. That was a real rain last night, Jack shook his head slowly, but somehow I can't believe it made this. Maybe this is the rainy season? They started toward the jungle, but turned to look back toward the ship. They saw their mother at the open door and waved to her. After seeing her unanswered wave, they plunged into the forest at a point where they saw a trail left either by the frequent passings of the great tripod they had shot, or by other beasts of some type not yet seen. Memory of that gigantic beast, though, made them doubly cautious. Sure don't want to meet his relatives, John said, especially the mate, Jack added, and could not conceal a shiver. They had noticed with considerable interest and surprise that those native ant-like scavengers had almost entirely eaten the bones of the tripod. Apparently we'll not find much in the way of remains on this world, Jack commented as they walked carefully along the trail. Those scavenger birds and ants sure clean up things in a hurry. Except for old vegetation, John grunted as he stumbled over a dead branch protruding out on the trail. He was keeping his rifle ready in his hands and his keen eyes alert to one side and then the other, rather than downward. Knowing his younger brother was so carefully on guard, Jack felt free to study and examine the various trees and other plant life near the irregular path they were following. He was almost in a frenzy of delight, constantly darting off the trail, a few yards to look at some specimen he had detected studying it carefully and exclaiming over his find. Hey, this one was like an ass or a compestress, he yelled, intently studying the bark with his magnifying glass. Spick English, John scolded. What is it? A hard maple, Jake's voice was condescending, then he ran over to another. This one's almost like a silver poplar. See how its light bark glints where the sunlight hits it? He started toward another farther away, but John called him back. Don't get too far from the trail. Reluctantly, Jack retraced his steps, only to be off again a moment later. This one's got nuts almost like small coconuts. He picked a fallen one from the ground and tossed it to John. See if you can crack it and find out what's inside. But when John had done so, it proved to be dried and half rotted. They could not get a fresh one from the tree by shaking, and it was too smooth and high to climb without spurs. Jack quickly filled his knapsacks with the first one and then another of the smaller plants, twigs, and leaves he was continually finding. Soon John was laughing heartily for his brother now had to discard an older specimen to make room for the new. You'll have to make several trips to get anywhere near all of those just around here, Owl. John called it last. You can't take back everything anyway. Where you're going now? You'd soon have the ship so full of your junk there'd be no place for us. And this is only the first planet, remember? But these are unique, Jack wailed. Botanists will want to study them. Then let them come here, John stated practically. Jack looked at him and grew shame-faced. Guess I did go a little nuts, he said. But before long his excitement rose to fever pitch again. There's so much here that's new and different, yet something like the ones we know. I must take back samples of everything. How many different kinds of, oh, say, roses are there on Terra? Why, I don't really know. Hundreds, I'm sure. Maybe thousands. What's that got to do with this? Simply trying to make you realize you can't take back samples of everything, as you said. Ouch. Jack laughed good-naturedly then. You got me, pal. I'll take it easier. But soon he forgot his good intentions as he found ever newer and more different plants and trees and mosses. There was such a dissimilarity yet at the same time so many points of likeness between the plant life of this new world and that of Terra, that the young botanist was in a continual state of excitement. John, meanwhile, although still keeping a sharp watch for any possible dangers, had been noticing the profusion of other life in this jungle. There were a number of different bird forms, although he saw that those he was close enough to examine were fur-covered rather than feathered. Nor did they seem to be songsters, for the only noises he heard were the sowing of wind through the trees and vines and bushes and the swish of wings as the birds flew past. They had gone some distance when he stopped short. Off at one side there was movement among the small bushes. A quick, sibilant whisper froze Jack in his tracks. John raised his gun, his eyes searching quickly, then two quick shots and a threshing in the underbrush. Soon stillness and the two boys advanced cautiously, both with their guns at the ready. In the bushes they found what John had shot, two small tripeds somewhat resembling large jackrabbits. Ha! These should be good-eating. John was in transports as he picked them up, examining them carefully. Should be tender, at least, if the flesh is suitable to us. Jack was excited, too. There's enough for a good meal. John took a piece of cord from his coverall pocket and tied the hind legs together, then slung them over his shoulder. Let's keep going. Let's keep going. Jack continued finding new and different plants and John kept on guard. Once they saw one of the huge tripeds in the distance and stopped instantly and being very quiet as they slipped behind the bowls of large trees from which they peered out cautiously. But apparently the great beast had not heard, seen, or smelled them. It finally wandered away, grazing. Well, I'll be a tadpole, John exclaimed, a grass eater. But Jack was not so sure. Lots of meat-eaters also eat a little grass. Those teeth didn't look like the ones of a herbivore. I think I'll keep away from them anyway. You and me both, John was agreeable to the idea. At last, after nearly two hours, the two boys came to the banks of the stream, which was about a quarter mile wide at this point and seemed not too deep, at least near the shore. Now it was John's turn to become the most excited. He ran to the edge and peered into the shallow depths, then called out, delightedly, at seeing dozens of darting forms of some type of marine life in the clear waters. You watch while I fish, he commanded, dropping his gun and the two hair-like creatures. He took the carrying case from his shoulder, opened it, and in moments he had his rod, reel, and line ready. Yippee! he yelled as he got an immediate strike on his first cast. With true fisherman's skill he played the now-fighting, swiftly darting denizen of the river. Carefully he reeled in his catch, giving line when the fish ran or plunged, reeling in when he felt the least bit of slack, exerting only enough pressure to force the fish thing in toward him without losing it. Soon the wriggling creature was in shallow water and John waited out with his landing net, a quick darting movement with hand and net, and he had his first catch. He took it carefully from the net and held it aloft, examining and admiring it. While Jack danced about on the shore near him, uttering shrill yelps of triumph, they could see that John's catch was streamlined, almost like a trout or barracuda. It was nearly fifteen inches long and very slender. There seemed to be no scales. The skin was more like that of an eel or bull-head. Fish or snake, John asked. Don't know for sure. John was still studying it. Think it's a fish all right, but it hasn't any fins and swims with the same wriggles a snake uses. I think it's more eel than snake though, and I'm quite sure it'll be good eating. The mouth was large and ran back almost three and a half inches. When John pried it open to remove his hook, he saw there was a triple row of needle sharp teeth, so quickly took a pair of pliers from his tool belt and used these to remove the deeply swallowed hook. The eel fish freed. He dropped it into his creel, then cast again. It was apparent these water denizens were unused to lures, or hardly had his spinner touch the surface of the water than he had another strike. As swiftly as he could reel in and remove one from his hook and cast again, John brought in fish after fish. All this time Jack was dancing about, now as excited as his brother at this prospect of fresh food to replace, for the first time, the nourishing but hardly delectable concentrates in frozen foods on which they had been living for so long. But when John finally was satisfied with the size of his catch, he found that leaving the river was not to be a simple matter of waiting ashore. So intent had he been on his fun, he had not noticed that his feet were sinking further and further into the bottom. Only now as he tried to return to shore did he find he could not lift his feet. They were firmly embedded in the sand or muck, more than halfway to his knees. For a long moment he struggled to pull first one foot and then the other from the clinging stuff. Then he realized he must be in a sort of quicksand and he began to panic. Quick, Jack, come help me, I'm caught. But almost instantly he countermanded that sharply. No, stay back, the bottom hears quicksand or something. Jack had come running at John's first cry. At this warning though he slid to a halt just short of the water. How can I help? he cried anxiously. Catch these first and John threw first his rod then his creel filled with fish. Jack caught each and tossed them farther back onto the bank. He then looked quickly about and spied a long fallen branch at some little distance. He called to his brother who was still trying desperately to free himself. Hang on a minute, I'll be right back. Racing for the branch he picked it up and brought it back to the water's edge, but when he extended it toward John it was too short by several feet. Even though both leaned forward. Jack would have gone into the water with it but John would not let him. We'll have to try something else then. Jack was getting really worried now for he could see that the water was up to John's waist. You'll have to make it snappy. John spoke as calmly as he could. I'm sinking deeper all the time. Again Jack searched swiftly and purposefully about him. He saw something he thought might help and ran swiftly toward one of the smaller trees. With difficulty because of the scarcity of limbs he climbed this and soon was hacking with his machete like knife at the long slender liana or climbing vine that hung downward from it. It took only a few moments to sever the top end then Jack slid down the trunk and traced the vine to its root cutting it there. With this long section he ran back to the water's edge. Catch he yelled but it took several attempts before he could get the unwieldy vine end near enough for John to grasp. Jack dug his heels into the ground and started pulling. His face grew red, cords stood out on his neck, and his muscles bulged. But quickly the strain proved too great for him. Since he was the lighter and weaker he was being pulled toward the water rather than freeing his embedded brother. I can't do it! Jack panted, his strength gone, his muscles and limbs aching and trembling. Tie your end around a tree I'll try to work myself out. Jack did so and the muscles on John's more powerful arms back and shoulders stood out in ridges as he threw all his splendid young strength into his climactic effort. He pulled, he wriggled about from side to side. Slow heart-breaking moments passed as the tug of war continued. Inch by hard-fought inch John was withdrawing his imprisoned legs from the sucking, gripping stuff that was so determined not to yield its victim. But he was still only a boy and he had neither the strength nor the endurance to continue for long this tremendous struggle. Slowly his efforts grew weaker and less successful. The sand began reclaiming that which it had lost. Before long John sank back and the strain on the vine relaxed. Can't make it! You've been a great brother! he tried to smile. Take care of mom and pop and break it to them gently. Shut up you dope! Jack yelled but there was a catch in his voice. We're not licked yet. Desperately his mind raced. He must think of some more effective mode of leverage. If only he knew how to handle the ship. He could bring that here and with the loading winch in the lock drag his brother loose. But that was out. He didn't know how to handle it. He thought of going after his mother but realized quickly that before he got to her and brought her back John would be gone. No. It was strictly up to him and time was swiftly running out. End Chapter 4 Chapter 5 OF THE PLANET MAPPERS This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Planet Mappers by Edward Everett Evans Chapter 5 Jack Carver's eyes search the edge of the jungle feverishly for any idea for some means of rescuing his younger brother embedded in the quicksand of the stream there. Suddenly he spied a slim but stout-looking tree close to the water's edge and a trick the two boys had often played with a small tree in their backyard at home sprang into his mind. Got an idea, John. Sluck off a minute. For John had been trying again and again as he felt a momentary return of part of his strength to pull himself free. He had, by this means, barely managed to keep from sinking further, but that was all. Now, with a quick twist, Jack unfastened the end of the viana from the tree to which he had tied it. Tie your end about you, just under the arms! he called. Then, placing his end of the vine in his mouth and gripping it firmly with his teeth, he started climbing that slim tree. It was about seven inches in diameter at the base and some forty to forty-five feet tall. His brother instantly recognized what he had in mind. So, as Jack climbed, John made sure his end was securely fastened about him. Then he grasped the vine firmly with both hands, a few inches in front of his chest. As Jack climbed ever higher into the tree, the slender sapling bent beneath his weight. He still climbed, but carefully now, on the side nearest the water, so the tree-trop would bend in that direction. The higher he climbed the tree, the more his weight made it curve downward, so that, toward the last, his back was almost parallel to the ground. Holding with his legs wrapped around the trunk, when he was almost three-quarters of the way up, Jack fastened his end of the liana totally in place. This was extremely difficult because of his unnatural position, as well as the stiffness of the vine and his having to work with one hand. But without wasting time, he took pains to make sure the knot was tight and secure. Then he started climbing again, further and further, toward the slender top of the now bent tree, but carefully, lest his weight and the bending splinter or snap the tree-top as it bent still further. Get tight, John! Be ready for the yank when I let go! All set and lined tight! Yell when you drop! Glancing down to see that the way was clear below him, Jack let his legs go and swung by his arms until he was hanging clear. He yelled sharply and let go, plunging down the fifteen or eighteen feet to the ground. Disregarding the shock, he scrambled up and peered closely at the tree, then the vine, then at John. The tree was draining to pull back and was a custom directness. The liana was taut, but bits of its bark were flucking off, it creaked so alarmily Jack was afraid it would break. All the time John was wriggling and twisting to help free his feet and legs, and the vine held as the tree proved its natural strength and desire for an upright position. Slowly, but surely, John's body was pulled from its prison. As he came more nearly free, the tree snapped upright so swiftly he was whipped out of the water and a dozen feet on of the sand. He landed, facedown with a terrible jar. Jack ran up and helped untie the vine. John set up slowly with his brother's help. His face was scuffed where it had slid along the sandy beach, and he slowly, painfully, wiped it somewhat clean with his handkerchief. His breath came in gasps from the terrible constriction of the vine around his chest and from his unusual exertions. Sympathetically, Jack hovered about until finally John's breathing was a bit easier. When his brother started to try to get up, he helped and held him. Yes, I can make it now. John finally broke away and did manage to stand alone, although he still reeled a bit from the fatigue and the terrible ordeal through which he had been. He walked slowly about, rolling his shoulders and moving his arms and fingers, exercising his cramped muscles. Jack gave him a couple of anti-fatigue pills from his pocket first aid kit, and John swallowed these. Finally, he began collecting his rod and creel. They dangled well better be good to eat, he declared, shaking the offending fish basket. It certainly wasn't worth all that narrow escape. Jack said soberly as he took the things from his brother and went over to pick up the little animal carcasses. But when he got there, he exclaimed in disgust, Darn, those ants have eaten them almost all up. We mustn't let mom know how close I came to not getting back, John said as he staggered along the little trail, although as he went, his strength and limberness returned somewhat. I'll say not. I'll keep my trap shut. One thing sure, though. There'll be no more fishing trips here. Oh, I wouldn't say that, John snapped back. I know enough now to stay on the bank. And if these are good eating, it's too easy a way to get fresh food to waste. They were just climbing into the lock when again that sudden heavy downpour rain began. John grinned as he opened the inner door. Glad to see the rain this time. It'll keep mom from wondering why my clothes are so wet. As soon as they had changed to dry clothing, John went to clean his fish, then took them to his mother in the galley. Jack, meanwhile, was in the control room, rearranging and trying to begin the classification of his plant specimens. When their mother called them to table, the boys sniffed appreciatively at the delicate odor of the nicely browned fish things. They cooked nicely. But how do we tell if they're good to eat? Mrs. Carver asked. Jack flipped one into his plate and cut off a tiny portion. Tell you soon. And he forked the piece into his mouth. With his tongue and teeth, he tested it, but did not swallow. Tastes good. He said a moment later, retrieving the piece with his fork and laying it on the side of the plate. One more test. He cut off another small piece and took it into the storeroom, where he placed a piece in one of the cages containing half a dozen white rats. A couple of them came up immediately, smelled the food, then one of them gobbled it up. Jack watched anxiously for a moment, and then gave another rat a piece. It, too, gobbled it up, and then joined the rest who were pressed against the wires begging for more. Jack stood watching for one minute, then two, then three. Satisfied that the meat had done the rodents no harm, he returned to the table. It's all right, he said, and began eating. The rats liked it, and it didn't seem to hurt them. The others pitched in then, and soon the entire platterful was reduced to a pile of bones on the three plates. Hall's father been to-day, Jack asked. He was asleep when I glanced at him after getting back. He moved about several times, tossing a groaning a bit, and seeming to be trying to touch his broken leg, although— Probably it itches inside the cast. He didn't regain full consciousness, but I tried spooning some concentrated broth into his mouth, and he was able to swallow a little of it. Golly, that's great! Jack exclaimed in relief. His drifting out of his coma from time to time shows there is no real damage to his brain, and now he's evidently beginning to come out of the concussion. Whatever it is, I feel more sure he'll soon regain consciousness and be all right. Mrs. Covers spoke with quiet confidence. Of course he will, Mom. Pop's too tough for a busted leg and a bump on the head to kill him. John smiled at her comfortingly. As the surface wound heals, the brain tissues beneath it will also be healing. Jack said bedatically, as long as we can keep him fed and otherwise healthy, the concussion will grow less and finally dissipate entirely. Dr. Carver, I presume, John sniggered, and his brother flushed a bit, then poked him in the ribs. John tried not to wince at that light jab. Luckily, their mother had not noticed anything, so, as quickly as possible, he said. Well, Owl, let's hit the sack. Want to move around this planet tomorrow and get our picks and info. Then take a look at the others. Jack started a protest, but caught his brothers almost imperceptible but frantic signal and changed his words. Maybe John's right at that, and we should get an early start. Night, Mother. Good night, boys. She responded to their kisses and soon the two were in their bunk room with the door closed. Jack turned swiftly on his brother. What's the big idea, making us go to bed so early, and why that funny look you gave me? I had to get out of there. John winced as he began taking off his shirt, and Jack crammed his fist into his mouth to keep from crying out as he saw the great angry red welts and the terrible black and blue splotches on John's torso. Great! Guns! What happened? That vine must have really hurt when it pulled me loose from that quicksand. I didn't notice it particularly, though, until you poked me in the ribs. Jack quickly dragged his large first aid kit from its place on the wall covered and opened it. Lie down on the bunk, and I'll fix you up. He said as he took out tubes of ungments, bottles of antiseptic, and rolls of bandages and plaster from the kit. Golly, kid! I had no idea you were in that shape, or I'd have done this before. John gritted his teeth as the other gently felt to see if any ribs were broken, and later as Jack applied the healing lotions and somewhat smarting antiseptics. But he could not entirely restrain his exclamations of pain, though he muffled them with his pillow, lest their mother hear and come to investigate. He knew his brother was being sympathetically gentle, and when at last it was done, John did feel easier. The burning had largely stopped, and some of the ache was gone. I better give you some barbit so you'll sleep sounder. Jack shook two small pills from a bottle. The calmer you sleep, the less you'll mess up those dressings, and the quicker you'll heal. He got a glass of water, and John took the pills and washed them down. You do have your uses now and then, he growled, but the grateful look in his eyes belied the ungraciousness of his words, and Jack was well content. In the morning much of the soreness and discoloration was gone, and there was no sign of inflammation or pus. After Jack had again tended to the abrasions and friction sores, the two boys dressed and went into breakfast. Their mother was in good spirits. Mr. C.'s breathing seems much easier than it was, she announced with delight. They all went in to see him, and while Jack was redressing the now almost healed head wound, John looked on happily. Won't be long now, he hugged his mother joyfully. I hope not, she sighed. He does seem to be getting better, though. We're lucky we still have him, mother. Jack's voice was serious. If that rock had even touched him, it would have been the end. His leg looks okay. No sign of swelling or inflammation. Breakfast was quiet, and as soon as they finished, John rose purposefully. I'll take us up now, and we'll cruise around and see what we can see. Have to take lots of recordings and pictures, you know. Are you sure you understand all that has to be done? His mother's voice was anxious. Sure, mom. It tells all about it in the papers the colonial board furnished. All we have to do is follow their instructions. You coming, Jack? Right with you. His brother hastily drank the rest of his coffee and rose, wiping his mouth. Be sure you strap down to the signal, mother, if you're not coming with us. She flashed him a smile. I will. Meanwhile, I'll clear the table. If I have time? She looked questioningly at John. Sure, it'll take ten to fifteen minutes to get ready, and I'll give you a couple of one-minute warnings. When all was ready, Jack strapped himself down in the call-pilot's seat, the book of instructions in his hand. John touched the stud of the buzzer, waited a full minute, then punched two buzzes. Then he nodded at his brother. Close fuel dump valves, Jack said, referring to the manual. Valves closed. Switch on fuel pumps. Pumps on. Switch on generators. Gens on. Open all oil valves. Oil open. Jack heaters. Heaters on. Jack refrigerators. Fridges on. Liar tube one and balance. John snapped a switch. A dull rumbling began, and the ship seemed to strain as the first tube started functioning, although at minimum strength. He carefully watched the dial to see that it was working smoothly. Finally, tube one firing. In like manner, tubes four, two, and then three were started and tested, and finally reported firing evenly. The ship seemed even more than ever straining, as though anxious to get into the air and into free space, but remained on the ground. Up landing props. John touched another stud, and they could feel the motor lifting the landing props into their slots in the hull. Take off. The roar deepened as John increased the amounts of fuel being fed into the tubes. The ship lifted effortlessly, easily into the air. Jack acceleration pressure. Normal to speed. Jack altimeter. 1,700. Level off. A moment of maneuvering. Then John reported. Ship level at 2,400. Traveling parallel to the ground surface. Jack rocket balance. All tubes on balance. Switch on autopilot. Auto on, but keeping ready to switch back to manual if necessary. Jack loosens his straps and went to look out of the port. But John kept his gaze fastened on the lookout plate before him, his hands resting lightly on the controls, although they were not connected now. Beneath them the land was sliding by, as the ship cruised at the slow speed, for it, of just under a thousand miles an hour. The boys saw the same sort of jungle forest, the same occasional clearings. From time to time the glint of water revealed rivers or lakes. The latter seldom more than a mile or so in width or length. After newly an hour they were flying above a huge plane, covered with some sort of grass or grain. They had been above this for some minutes, when John uttered an exclamation, and Jack came up quickly to see what his brother had spotted in the magnifier screen. Look down there, owl! The younger brother was excited. Thousands of cattle! Phew! Most like those old buffalo herds we read the old pioneers saw on the western plains of Norama. Hey, those things are tripeds too, like the big one we shot, and the rabbits. Yes, I see. Must be the usual thing here. But those down there are smaller, like cows. Wonder if they're good to eat, or give milk. Don't know, but we sure want to report this. He took several pictures with the recording camera, then made notations in the data book. The two continued watching until the tremendous herd was out of sight behind them, and they were flying once more above a great forest. They had gone almost two thousand miles when they saw ahead and downward the beginnings of what was either an ocean or a great sea. As they drew closer, they still could not see it's further shore. I don't remember this from before, do you? John looked perplexed. Yes, I think this must be the one we saw a part of from the north. That is, I assume it was north as we were near the ice-cap. But I didn't realize it was so. Hey, look down there! That proves I was right! John pointed triumphantly towards his visit plate. See those high water marks along the shore? That means this moon is big enough to cause tides, same as Luna does to Terra. What good, really, are tides! Why, said John super-seriously, they're one of the most useful things God has given man. They, they... John stopped, flushed, and then laughed. Darned if I know what they're good for! Of course, if they're high enough, men can make tide motors and produce power. But now that we've got atomics, we don't need those. I suppose we should record them, though. Jack was tactful enough not to laugh. Yes, write it down. They were over an hour passing above this ocean, and had begun to wonder if it was greater in extent than Terra specific. But finally they made out in the distance the dim blueness of the further shore. That's some ocean, all right! Shows there's lots of water here on, too. Oh, with those heavy rains, there'd almost have to be. This'll be of special interest to colonists. Means not only plenty of water, but if that stream was any example, there'll be lots of fish down there to start a big food industry later. About two hundred miles past the eastern shore of the ocean, they saw the blue of mountains in the decreasing distance. Soon John had to rise higher and higher to clear them safely. Some of the individual peaks seemed to be nearly five miles high, and one or two of them, almost at the range of visibility, the boys estimated to be even taller. Probably lots of metals here, John commented. I'll swing back and over them again, and let Annie get to work. Yes, this list says to report on metallic ores. Say, doesn't it seem funny to you that there are no people on a world as capable as this of supporting life? Wonder why? No telling. Pop says lots of earth-like planets don't have any inhabitants capable of any sort of civilization, but that means more ready-made worlds for Terrans to colonize. John made their ships circle above the mountains while the boys took readings with a spectral analyzer. Then they started on again. After almost an hour, when they were over one of the few desert places they had seen, John suddenly leaned forward with a little intake of breath that his brother noticed. What's up? Not sure, but listen to Annie click. From the reading, I think there must be some of that metal Pop was so positive about down there somewhere. The stuff for new fuel? Yes. We don't know it'll be any good as fuel, but its atomic weight seems to be so high Pop was all excited when the spectrogram of this sun showed it. He said he felt sure we'd find it on at least one of these planets. It'll take a lot of time to locate it exactly, won't it? Not too much with the new gadgets they have for locating metal ores. John tried not to sound impatient with his brother's ignorance. We've got one that lets us cruise around in the air and spot it fairly close, then land and find the exact place quite easily. What sort of gadget? John shrugged. Don't know exactly how they work, but I can use one. Something like a spectroscope that works without first having to heat the metals into gas. Plus something like those old Geiger counters they use to trace radioactives. Plus some other ideas the techies put into them. It tells about them in one of our real books there. You go get ours. I think it's in bin 14 in the storeroom. Looks like a small black suitcase with carrying straps. Meanwhile, I'll get ready to set us down. I'll hurry so as to be back to read the routine for you. While his brother was gone, John activated the Bowery Tartars. After snapping off the stern tubes. Then he sent the ship into a curve that would bring them back nearer the place where he wanted to land. But only part of his mind was doing that. The rest was wondering why there had to be so much fuss and detail in landing and taking off with the ship. Why couldn't it be fixed so one man could navigate and pilot without all this bother? It ought not to be too difficult. Jack was soon back with the recorder, and John showed him how to read it. Soon they located what seemed to be the center of that strange disturbance, and with Jack's help, John set the ship down on the sand, fairly close to where they thought that hoped-for metal or its ore might be found. When the two boys went into the living room, they told their mother what they had landed for, and that they were going out to look for the source of this excitement. Is that really necessary? she asked anxiously. Mr. C. didn't say anything to me about any such thing. Haven't we got fuel enough to get home on? Sure, Mom, John hastened to explain. But Pop thought this new stuff would be a lot more powerful than the fuel we're using, said it ought to give us far greater cruising range, with lots less storage space. If we found something of the sort, it would be a great contribution to space travel. That's right, Jack added, and if we do find such a thing here, miners will soon be flocking after it, and that'll mean bo-ku credits for us. Well, said Mom doubtfully, I guess you know best. Your father seems to be growing better, and lets me feed him, even though he hasn't ever seemed to regain full consciousness. If you are sure this is what he'd do with the wake, I suppose it is what you should do. Looks like a funny place for ore, John said, as the two boys left the ship, and started at a fast pace in the direction Annie had pointed out as a center of activity. I'd have expected it to be in the mountains, not in a desert like this. Yes, I was wondering about that. The elder brother shook his head slowly. But you can tell there's something here. What is it we're really looking for? Oh, I know it's metal or ore of some sort. He added hurly as he saw John start a retort. What I mean is, is it ore or natural nuggets, and is it radioactive, or what? John grinned as he trotted along. Don't really know much more than you. I know how to detect it, and I'll know it if we find it. But to tell ahead of time, I haven't the minnow of an idea. They had actually gone less than a quarter of a mile when the heat of the sun, reflected from the hot, white desert sand, became almost unbearable. Finally Jack stopped, wiping the pouring perspiration from his face and neck. Oh, we can't take much of this. Better go back and get our suits. Yes, guess you're right. John was also working his handkerchief over time. The refriges in them will keep us cooler, even if they're harder to walk in. And the suit goggles will protect us better from the academic rays of this sun, Jack said. We're so close. Only sixty-five or seventy million, you said? That the solar rays are a lot stronger than those we get back on Terra, even in the deserts. Sure, those jungle trees protected us before, so we didn't notice them. Their mother heard them as they returned and came to see what the trouble was. When they explained, as they were putting on their suits, she again warned them to be careful. Then she added, somewhat hastily, It's just a mother's instinct to keep warning her children to be careful. I know you boys always are. The fact that you came back rather than take chances shows this. Please don't feel badly that I keep nagging at you. Heck, Mom, we know you aren't nagging, John hugged her. If you ever quit warning us, that's when we'd really get worried. Their suits on and the refrigerator's working. The pair began retracing their steps. John led the way since he was carrying the detector. They went in a decreasing spiral to locate the center. They made a beeline for that spot. But after almost a mile, the signal seemed to grow weaker, and they stopped for a conference. Must've passed it! John said over to suit radio as his puzzled eyes studied the meters on the finder. Try going back thirty or forty yards to the right, then back toward the left, Jack suggested. Soon John shouted and started off in a new direction, but more slowly, and Jack ran quarteringly toward him. Inside half a mile John lost the beam again, and once more they quartered to find it. In narrower and narrower circles they searched. Suddenly Jack stumbled and fell to the ground. As he started to rise, John heard his excited yell coming through his earphones.